Unwritten
by soralia
Summary: The untold stories of the villains of Naruto. An account of events through their eyes. Sometimes things are not as clear as they seem. Further summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

I'm attempting to tackle a fairly complicated topic with this fic which I feel requires a bit of explanation before you read. So please take the time to read this author's note. 

As a history student, I have always been fascinated with the concept of unwritten history. It's commonly said that history is written by those in power. Our concept of history is skewed by the perception of those who recorded it, and naturally so. Mankind is innately biased and there is no such thing as an unbiased historical account. Due to this, we often only know one side of a story; the side represented by those in power, those who have the resources to record and preserve historical documents.

This concept led me to the idea for this fic. What if the story we have been told in the Naruto anime/manga is the account of those in power, namely the leaders of Konohagakure? What things are left out by their biased viewpoint? What if their version of history excludes all indications of corruption and wrongdoing within the power structure of the village? Essentially, what if those individuals we know as villains and traitors are in fact the true heroes, fighting a losing battle against a stronger power?

So I've constructed a world that follows essentially the same timeline as the story we know, but is told from the point of view of the men and women who do not write the history. This fic is _not_ an AU fic, but rather an examination of the same events from different points of view.

(Just to make things clear, I do not in any way, shape, or form consider this to be the true Naruto storyline. It's just an concept I found interesting and wanted to explore. I'm still of the opinion that the Konoha ninja _are_ the heroes and in the right. Some of them will be terribly vilified in this fic, and it does make me feel bad, but it's only for the sake of storytelling.)

This fic will also feature a shifting first person perspective. Each chapter will begin with an indication of the current narrator.

That being said, I hope everyone enjoys this little experiment of mine. Feedback is appreciated and adored.

-sor

(Due to a formatting issue, this has been deleted and reposted.)

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**Fire Country - Uchiha Itachi**

Does it bother me to know that I'm branded a traitor and a murderer? Or that I've been hunted mercilessly by men whom I once fought with side by side? That I killed my own mother and father in cold blood along with the rest of our clan and left my beloved little brother orphaned and alone in a village that was just as likely to destroy him as raise him to become the great shinobi he is destined to be?

Yeah, it does. Every minute of every hour. Only I can't let them see. If they want to tarnish my name, vilify me, even turn my brother against me, I cannot stop them. I gave up the chance to be a hero when I refused to kowtow to a corrupt and selfish aristocracy; refused to play the dutiful heir and fulfill my destiny to lead one of Konoha's most noble and ancient clans, second only in dignity and disdain to Hyuuga. I gave up all of that for a feeling in my gut, a sense that things were not as they should be. So let them paint me the villain. Let them say Uchiha Itachi is heartless and insane, the demon who betrayed Konoha to his lust for power.

I would rather be a villain than a coward, even if it meant Sasuke would hate me.

I managed to escape the village before my crime was discovered. Outsiders were rarely allowed within the walls of the Uchiha district, so it was not until a keen eyed observer noted that no lamps had been lit that evening that an investigation was initiated. However, this margin of less than an hour was not enough to put me out of harm's way, especially not when I would no doubt be pursued by ANBU. Luckily, I had the added advantage of knowing ANBU tactics. I had been a captain, after all. If they thought me easy prey, I would have been sorely disappointed in them.

I stopped in mid-flight only for a moment, perching upon a tree branch to cast a glance back the way I had come. There was no visual trace of pursuit yet, but I doubted there ever would be. ANBU did not make themselves known until they were ready and while with Sharingan I might have detected them, I had used a great deal of chakra already and to maintain a constant vigil would not only strain my eyes, but quickly deplete what was left of my chakra. I had underestimated the fight the old man would give me. If not for Mangekyou…

I pushed off from the branch, laughing bitterly to myself. Well hadn't Mangekyou turned out to be a hell of a lot more trouble than it was worth? All those lies spread down through the generations, written in secret texts hidden in underground vaults were meant only to discourage any ambitious Uchiha from developing his Sharingan into a truly magnificent power. Kill your closest friend? Nonsense. Killing Shisui was not what brought forth my gift. Rather, it was nothing more than a desire for the strength with which to bring about the downfall of our long corrupted clan; the desire to live and bring forth justice.

xxxx

Uchiha Shisui was a few years older than I, but the two of us had been nearly inseparable in our youth. Yet as we grew, our paths took different turns. He stepped into the Uchiha tradition of joining the police force while I joined ANBU, advancing as quickly through their ranks as he did through the police. Still, we liked to pretend things were as they always had been; that there was no rift opening between us. We also liked to pretend that the rift only opened between us, two individuals, rather than between myself and the entire clan.

Uchiha was one of Konoha's oldest noble clans and reminding others of that fact was very much a part of _being _Uchiha. Such a superiority complex didn't gain us many fans among the other ninja of the village. In fact, I was one of the few even tolerated in many social circles thanks to a few friends I had earned during my time with ANBU. It was the first opportunity I'd had to observe how men outside the clan behaved on a regular basis and it made me wonder just what gave Uchiha the right to act as if we were the end all be all of shinobi. Half of them lacked the skill to even use Sharingan properly, let alone to its greatest potential.

However, Shisui was one of those with the right to brag. He was one of the strongest in the clan, a man who showed great potential both physically and strategically. He knew how to maneuver himself throughout the village and into the good graces of the Hokage and village council, a fact that my father was never particularly fond of. Competition was a reality within Uchiha never seen by outsiders and Shisui, despite our childhood bonds, sought to surpass me and usurp my position as heir to the clan.

I couldn't have that. I couldn't let a bastard like him have the power that I was born into, even if my father had begun to look on me as a failure. I no longer held to the clan ideal of power. I no longer supported our work as police and had done all in my power to distance myself from the clan's traditional duties.

I found myself, as time passed, developing more and more discontent regarding our clan's stance of unquestioned obedience to the Hokage. In fact, the entire village seemed to be under such a spell, with few exceptions. Those that spoke out too loudly were either driven away, like the legendary sannin Orochimaru-sama, or arrested as dissenters and traitors. In fact, our prisons held more honest men than criminals; men whose only crime was speaking against Sandaime's brutal stranglehold on the village and surrounding daimyo. The only reason I had not joined those men was that I kept my mouth shut.

Thanks to my silence, father thought me largely ignorant to the politics that ran our little village. However, he really should have remembered that Sharingan was a useful tool not only for battle, but for lip reading as well. I had taken note of any number of conversations between Sandaime and our clan leaders, most of which regarded his orders to subdue yet another outspoken man, but there was one conversation in particular that began to push my mind out of that bubble of familiarity it had been so comfortably hiding within.

Sandaime often made visits to my father's house on official business of the type he liked to keep out of the records. They were very careful to distance themselves from the house on the pretense of a walk in the garden, but the two old fools could not have been more suspicious. Sasuke thought it was amazing to have the Hokage in our little house, but I knew better. I also knew better than to expect my father to let his guard down, even within the walls of our home, so I was forced to exercise more stealth than even I was used to.

Sarutobi managed to maintain that jovial mask of his even when discussing such topics as ruining the lives of half a dozen loyal ninja. It was taboo in Konoha to voice anything that could be seen even remotely as anti-governmental, even if it was obvious where loyalties lay. From where I stood, I could see Sandaime's face straight on, but my father's at an odd angle that made his responses difficult to read at times. Still, knowing him as I did, it was not difficult to fill in the blanks created by my lack of vision.

"Warnings do no good with men such as these." I couldn't hear Sandaime's tone, but it was clear in his expression that he spoke with the utmost casual air, as if he and my father spoke of nothing more important than the weather. "They will not be satisfied until they have fully tarnished my name throughout the village. For the sake of our village, we cannot allow lies to run rampant. I'm sure you, a man of the law, can understand."

My father, a man who always seemed stern and prideful when exerting his dominance over the clan, had managed to completely tarnish the image of our clan with his exaggerated deference. If he'd had his head any further up the Hokage's ass, he might have suffocated on his next compliment. "Of course. I understand completely. Any man who would speak against the Hokage deserves nothing less than a severe lesson in manners. I can promise you they will find no peace in prison."

His answer seemed to satisfy Sandaime, who nodded once, not even bothering to hide his self-satisfied smile. "Thank you, Fugaku. And can I trust that this matter will be addressed at the clan meeting this evening?"

That damn meeting. Father had been demanding my attendance despite the fact that I had been assigned routine patrol duties with ANBU. Apparently I was the only one in the clan who saw anything distinctive about the honor of being appointed to ANBU at only thirteen. Meetings and secrets were more important to them than even prestige, it seemed. ANBU was aware of the conflict, but left such a decision in my hands, promising no penalty should I fail to arrive on time for patrol.

I had planned on avoiding the meeting entirely, but had there been any doubt in my mind over such a choice, it vanished when my father spoke again. "I will distribute the warrants before the night is over. This Saito Hikaru shouldn't be too much trouble, ANBU or no."

My breath caught in my throat. Saito was a man I knew well, despite my relatively short stint with ANBU. In fact, he was a captain I much respected. I couldn't, even in my wildest imaginings, understand why the Hokage was so intent upon seeing him arrested. It was this that finally convinced me to join the clan for their ridiculous little meeting, if only to get to the bottom of the Hokage's inexplicable orders.

xxxx

The moon was full as I continued my flight through forests I knew as well as the streets of the Uchiha district. Had I not known my way, exhaustion might have taken me at any time, leaving me at the eventual mercy of the pursuing ANBU units who drew closer by the moment. I caught sight of them once just as the moon began to set behind the treetops, bathing the forest in the shadows of the coming dawn. Strangely, dawn was darker than night that morning and it left me with an odd churning in my gut. For this morning to dawn so cold and dark after the illumination of the full moon somehow cast a similar fog over my mind.

The memory of what I had done was clear as day and yet also shrouded in fog, which I know must seem absurd. I remember the dampness of blood on my hands, the stickiness when I pressed my fingers together. As a shinobi I was not unfamiliar with such a sensation, but this time, when the blood that stained my hands was that of my own bloodline, the sensation was somehow more surreal. Now, as I fled, the blood had long since dried, staining the black of my clothing and the pale flesh of my hands. I rubbed them together, but only a few flakes of red worked their way free, fluttering lifelessly to settle in the grass.

It was disconcerting to know I was being such a fool over a pair of bloodstained hands. After all, I had received emotional training even before I entered the academy. Uchiha started early and my father had always been determined to groom me into the perfect shinobi; a genius that would once and for all settle any debate that Uchiha was the strongest of the noble families. I should have been amused that I fulfilled my father's desires after all, though not exactly in the method of his choosing.

As the moonlight waned and the first bold hints of sunrise began to cast their shadows through the trees, I stopped once more at the banks of the Nakano River. The forest was still as death, poised as if at the height of a deep breath. No creature stirred, no early morning birds to herald the sunrise. It was as if the fog in my mind had escaped and extended itself over the entire world. My own breaths seemed thunderously loud in my ears as did the pounding of my heart against my chest. Exhaustion was no doubt settling in.

I crouched unsteadily at the banks of the river, intending only to drink briefly and refresh my energy. I had been surviving all night on nothing more than a solitary soldier pill from the stash I had pilfered from my father's room after I had left his lifeless corpse splayed across the kitchen floor. I was thankful now for my quick thinking as I could not have survived the night's pursuit without the nourishment.

I dipped my hands into the running water, the early morning chill sending a brief shiver up my spine. I briefly considered waiting until the next opportunity to drink, knowing that such icy water was likely to do a number on my stomach, even potentially reacting badly with the every present rush of adrenaline, however rational thought was won over by simple human desire. I was thirsty. Yet when I lifted my hands, cupped full of the icy liquid, I could do nothing more than stare into the shallow puddle held in my palms.

The water was red.

Ripples emerged on the surface and it was only then that I realized how my hands shook. Whether it was from cold or from the sudden urge to vomit, I wasn't sure, but the red water trembled, spilling out between my fingers and back into the river where it was swept away briskly in the current. Uchiha blood flowing away down the Nakano. I wondered if somewhere at the base of the river in some forgotten spring the blood from my hands mingled with the Uchiha blood that had followed this same current not so very long ago when Shisui and I had confronted one another along the banks of the river.

xxxx

It was late when I finally returned to the Uchiha district the night Shisui had met his demise and nearly all the lights were out including those in my father's house. Still, I was suspicious and spent nearly half an hour lurking outside, straining to find any evidence that the house was watched. In the end, I realized it was little more than paranoia. If father had been watching for me, I doubt even I could have evaded him that night.

I made it safely to my room, my heart in my throat. Not only was I forced to be wary of father, but Sasuke as well, who had a habit of waiting up when I was away on missions. It was only once I had pushed my bedroom door to that I allowed myself to breathe again, sinking down to the floor with my back braced against the wall. I had been unable until then to process exactly what had occurred that night by the banks of the Nakano. I only knew for certain that Shisui was dead and that I had seen and done things thought long impossible.

Mangekyou… the lost talent of the Uchiha clan. No cases had been confirmed in generations and there were some in the clan who thought it nothing more than fable.

But how could it be a fable when I had seen the world through it? When it had saved my life?

It did not help matters that my memory of the events themselves were unclear, shadowed by shock and exhaustion. The fight had drained me of every ounce of strength and I wondered if I would be able to manage dragging myself from the floor to my bed. That question was answered when what little strength remained was squandered on a few moments of soft laughter. How could I think of such mundane things when I had just altered the history of Uchiha forever; when I had just killed my own cousin without fully realizing until it had been done.

Shisui had accused me of plotting against the clan, citing my near constant presence at ANBU headquarters as undeniable proof. Certainly I had been avoiding the clan to some degree, but I had not yet gathered the courage to pursue a set course of action. Perhaps I never would have had Shisui not intercepted me as I rushed towards the meeting I had so desperately wished to attend. The meeting that would have shed light on the Hokage's intentions towards Saito. And now, both my and Shisui's absence from that meeting would ultimately incriminate me when his corpse was eventually found washed ashore down river. I had penned a suicide note, but any Uchiha policeman with half a brain would know Sharingan can copy handwriting exactly.

In fact, it was nearly the first point they brought to my attention the next morning when Inabi arrived with his lackeys. Still, I knew well enough they had no concrete proof and while such a thing would not have stopped them in most cases, I had two factors working in my favor; the first, my rank within the clan and the second, my association with ANBU. The later forced them to postpone any further investigation until they cleared their actions with the ANBU commanders, a process I planned to slow down with as much red tape as I could possibly create.

Still, despite my best efforts, suspicion grew and a time came when I could hardly walk the streets of the Uchiha district without drawing scowls from various men and women who had made rash assumptions based on hatemongering.

They were all sheep and all ripe for slaughter. It would serve them all right if their arrogance were paid for with a river of Uchiha blood.

xxxx

I traveled as quickly as my fatigued body would allow, but every step began to grow more and more labored. I wondered at times if I would be strong enough to complete the journey, though I had no idea how long the journey would last. My first goal had been to escape Konoha and then the Fire Country. There would be complications with the pursuit should I cross the boarder, especially if I crossed into a country that held another hidden village. In fact, it had been my initial impulse to flee in the direction of the Lightning Country, but the realization came quickly enough that no Cloud nin would welcome a man wearing a forehead protector of the Leaf.

I altered course at some point during mid-morning, turning my focus away from the Lightning Country and onto the nearest alternative, the poor, relatively harmless Rice Field Country. The nearest border to Konoha was a massive landmark; two figures carved into the stone faces of the cliffs. We called it the Valley of the End. No one really knew why it came to have such a name and honestly, very few of our ninja ever ventured out so far. The bordering country was weak and poor so there was little reason to pay it much mind. It was not a threat and it could not afford our exorbitantly high fees, so the Rice Field Country might as well have been a massive crater in the face of the Earth.

Such was yet another reason to head towards the valley. Who would think to search for me there? They considered me a murderer and traitor and I'm sure their first instinct was to prevent me from reaching another village with Konoha secrets. If that were their intentions, I surmised I should be safe once I crossed the border.

Yet when I came in sight of the monument, I found myself gripped with an almost painful reluctance that seemed to manifest itself in my chest, as if my heart had momentarily stopped beating. The sun was drifting lower in the sky, casting a golden glow into the waters as they poured down the cliff face and into the reservoir below. It was a sight all together breathtaking and insurmountably painful. There, carved in stone, was the impassive, stern face of Shodai-sama and my weary mind conjured up image upon image of that great silent head turning to cast its disapproving gaze upon me. _Traitor._

I paused by the riverbank, bending to drink, no longer worried about the effects of cold water on my exhausted body. It was icy and refreshing and while the water did its part to rejuvenate my body, it only succeeded in further clouding my mind. Without the burn of thirst in my throat, I found my consciousness drifting almost aimlessly until my gaze landed on the rapid current again. The water tumbled over stone and earth along its way to the perilous tumble that would lead it further off into the distance, wearing the stone away with every beat.

Without thought, my hand plunged into the flow, coming to rest against the smoothness of a boulder, cold and damp but not entirely submerged. The currents diverged, splitting the path of the water around the obstacle, but at the same time wearing away layer after layer of stone. Eventually, the water would force its way over the boulder, having worn away at its base, leaving its strength and impenetrability ultimately eroded away. No strength could stand forever. Eventually, even the strongest of us all could be worn down into nothing. I wasn't sure if I was reassured by such a thought or further dismayed.

"Uchiha Itachi."

The voice came from behind, near the break in the trees where the valley began. I wonder how I must have appeared to them, crouched by the riverside lost in a world all my own, clothing filthy, covered now in not only the blood of my clan but the filth of a day's journey through the forests of the Fire Country; my hair in mild disarray, wisps of black floating free from the band at the base of my neck. I hardly looked the part of the heir to one of Konoha's most prestigious families. I hardly looked worthy to lick their boots.

I rose slowly, but maintained my focus on the rocks below in the river. Rocks that in a thousand years would no longer be there. But in a thousand years men would still speak of the destruction of Uchiha by one of its own, but only time would tell if men would speak of me with awe or with fear. So much depended on what happened now, today, with a trio of ANBU hunters at my back and the title of traitor and deserter ahead. Whatever happened, my name would be tarnished throughout the Fire Country, but that could be changed. I only had to survive.

I turned my gaze over my shoulder, already knowing what I would find there. The voice, I had recognized. His name was Takeshi and he had been the first man I had ever served under in ANBU, my captain before I became a captain. I wasn't surprised that he was the one to find me. No man in ANBU knew my mind better than Takeshi, which was why he had anticipated the direction of my flight and tracked me with such skill. I wanted very badly to offer the man a smile, but such a gesture would only be misunderstood. Instead, I only allowed them to see my eyes, already red and piercing. I wasn't sure if I had the strength to use Mangekyou, but I hoped I wouldn't need to. Defeating them would do me little good if I left myself near breaking when it was through.

As I expected, they were not eager to attack. As I said, Takeshi knew me well and also knew well the reasons I had risen to the rank of captain in only a few short months. Not to mention I was certain the orders had been to capture me alive. Well, if it came down such a road, I would not allow it. I had vowed already that I would not set foot in Konohagakure again unless it was of my own choice.

"Itachi-taichou." Takeshi took a step forward, signaling the accompanying men to hold position. By their masks I identified them immediately. Wataru and Reiji. Both men who had served under me for a time; the perfect additions to a team created solely to track my escape. It was strategic both due to their knowledge of my skills and our emotional connection. Somehow they hoped that our friendship would give me pause. I was sad to realize it would not.

"I'm not a captain any longer. You shouldn't call me such. Sandaime would string you up and label you a traitor." I did smile then, allowing a hint of dark humor to appear in my eyes. They knew the truth of my words, which was why they took such quick offense. I could see clearly those subtle signs. Wataru's grip tightened fiercely around the hilt of his kunai; Reiji's right leg shifted, grinding a shallow crater in the dirt beneath his feet. Only Takeshi remained impassive and I could only imagine his expression behind the blankness of his mask. I liked to imagine he understood, but I realize it was little more than wishful thinking.

He took another step forward, a bold action to which I offered no reaction. "Itachi-kun," he amended. "We've come to bring you back. I would ask you to come with us quietly, but I know you won't. I have no reason to expect you would walk home to be executed. However, I hope you would consider it an honorable alternative to treason."

"You don't really believe what you're saying, do you, Takeshi-sempai?" I was on the verge of laughter now as I turned finally to face him, my back to the rushing river and the opposite bank that marked the border of the Fire Country and my freedom.

As I turned, I could see the three of them shift as if part of the same body, a well oiled unit operating in conjunction with one another without even a thought. That was the essence of being ANBU; skill beyond only physical skill. The ability to be a hunter was tied just as strongly to intuition as to strength. However, it was I, not my former companions, who first detected the sense that not all was right.

As things so often seem through the gaze of Sharingan, the world moved as if in slow motion. Mere seconds stretched into an eternity. Takeshi moved first, lithe form dropping into an immediate crouch, gaze shifting past my form and over my shoulder. Wataru moved next, a fraction of a second behind Takeshi, sliding to the side with agility rarely matched by even the best of ANBU. At first, for the barest moment, I assumed they moved in anticipation of an attack from me, but when I felt the faint brush of air against my cheeks and my eyes detected the nearly invisible blurs skirting my head and torso, I realized they moved in reaction to this. Poisoned needles launched with pinpoint accuracy. Needles that struck poor Reiji as if he were little more than a target dummy of straw and burlap.

The other ANBU were forgotten and even I turned quickly, betraying my surprise far too easily to the two figures standing upon the opposite bank. Two figures, but only one appeared human. He was tall and I ventured to guess he was slender, but his form was masked almost entirely in a coat of black; black interspersed with red clouds. His face was masked just as efficiently beneath the shadowed brim of a bamboo kasa. At his side, the second figure seemed bent in a permanent crouch, but closer examination identified his stance not as a crouch, but a natural posture brought about by the shape of his body, which resembled, if anything, a large scorpion shrouded in human attire.

The first of the two spoke and his smile was practically audible. "Forgive the intrusion, but Itachi-kun will be coming with us."


	2. Chapter 2

I appologize for the infrequency of my updates, but here finally, is chapter 2. I can't think of much more to say that wasn't said in the intro to the first chapter. Just enjoy and please review. I love hearing from you and I have to say, the reviews tend to inspire me to write faster. I need a bit of motivation!

-sor**

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Valley of the End - Orochimaru

"You've grown, Itachi-kun."

I was unsure if the boy recognized me beneath the identity shrouding coat and hat, but regardless, I saw his red eyes narrow. He was unhappy with the familiarity I showed him and with good reason. Itachi had never been the type to be fond of familiarity. Arrogance went hand in hand with Uchiha blood, but even as a child, Itachi had exuded more than the usual allotment. Of course, we attributed it to his rank within the clan and the seeming endless attention showered upon him by that dog Fugaku. No boy in his shoes could help becoming a little full of himself.

Beneath his glare, however, was clear exhaustion and I found it miraculous that a child of his age could find the strength not only to completely topple one of the strongest ninja clans in the known world, but then run with no rest for an entire day and night, pursued relentlessly by ANBU. I could not help but admire such strength and envy it as well. Uchiha Itachi was the type of shinobi that all men envied to some degree, both for his strength and his youth. To have such strength tied to my cause would be beyond good fortune.

Of course, there was no use in getting ahead of myself when there were still two ANBU standing, casting nervous glances between Sasori and I, unsure even of which of us had launched the attack that had killed the third member of their team. However, I could hear the slow shifting of that monstrous Hiruko of his as he prepared another volley of needles from within. Amid the soft clanking of the mechanism came a low chuckle from further within, soft enough that only I could hear. "Konoha hunters are somewhat lacking, it seems."

I knew he could not see my acknowledging grin, but all the same I'm certain he knew it was there. Sasori knew well my distaste for ANBU, an emotion that had been founded long before they pursued me during my escape from the Fire Country. I found them as mindless and soulless as those ridiculous masks they wore. There was no denying that many within their ranks were good men, but what good is a kind heart when a weak mind allows it to be put to use for despicable deeds?

"Don't speak so hastily, Sasori-kun. The shock has worn off already." Indeed, the pair had been momentarily paralyzed with surprise, but were already moving once again, communicating with only the briefest of glances. If there is one thing I can say for ANBU, they are talented fighters. However, these two men had no idea what they were up against.

Hiruko could move like lightning and as soon as the two ANBU leapt into motion, the long multi-jointed tail shot forward with a speed and fluidity that would make even the most observant of men believe it was a living creature. Even I, at times, found myself captivated by its movement; the illusion of a living breathing scorpion, despite its obvious wooden construction. However, the ANBU captain was not thusly captivated. He evaded the strike with ease, a drawn kunai sliding forward into the wooden joints where it imbedded itself firmly, causing the extremity to jerk ungracefully, its aim severely weakened.

Spurred on by such a minor victory, the masked captain altered his course, dark eyes set for the first time on me. There was a brief shift in posture as he attempted a feint, darting first left then right, but it was all too obvious. I was not even forced to waste the energy to dodge. Rather, I merely lifted my right arm, performing senei jashu. A trio of snakes shot forth from within my sleeve, sailing rapidly towards the ANBU captain, who at least had the sense to dodge before staring in awe. "You're…"

xxxx

"Orochimaru."

I paused in the hallway that led to Sandaime's modest office, casting a glance over my shoulder in search of the speaker. There were few now who made the rounds in the lower levels of the administrative building, especially in the tiny back hallways that led to Sarutobi's private office, a privilege granted him by his idiot puppet Yondaime. That boy still hadn't realized that granting Sarutobi's every request did not inspire confidence in the opinions of those who judged his skill as a leader.

"Ah, Danzou-san. So he called you as well?" I offered a polite nod to the older man, allowing him the time to catch up. However, when he arrived at my side, we did not move forward. Rather, we both seemed to share the same notion; to better prepare for our meeting with Sandaime before stepping into the lion's den. My former sensei was a force to be reckoned with both on and off the battlefield and if there was one thing I had learned in those years under his wing it was that one never entered battle with a man of his talent without the least bit of preparation.

"Called me away from what I'm certain are much more important matters." Danzou didn't bother to hide his disgust. In all the years I had known him, he only seemed to grow more bitter and angry with age and it would not surprise me if in the span of a few more years, he managed to make himself physically ill with all his worrying.

Danzou-san had been Sarutobi's only real competition years ago for the honor of being named Hokage. The story had been glossed over in the village histories, but I have enough vague recollection of the time to be more inclined to believe Danzou's side of things. True, Sarutobi was called the Professor, but it was Danzou who possessed the real intellect between them. His knowledge of jutsu was inferior, but he was the most brilliant strategist and political mind in generations. It had always been his stand that it takes more than simple strength to make a good Hokage; that ultimately it took both talent with the ninja arts and a keen mind for government; a trait which Sandaime had never possessed in abundance.

However, Danzou's largest fault was that his overused, under worked mind had managed to develop a number of almost ridiculous conspiracy theories regarding some of the villages most well kept secrets, including the suicide of Hatake Sakumo, which he insisted was not suicide in the least, but an execution ordered by Sandaime himself. He had no proof, though, and was forced to abandon his efforts to prove otherwise. There were, however, some theories of his that were absolutely correct; namely the lineage of the Hokage line. He had claimed, even back in his prime, that the only reason he was denied the position was due to favoritism from Nidaime for his equally perverted student. This was why he had so fervently supported me to succeed Sarutobi. He was certain that the pattern would continue and that Sarutobi's most trusted student would inherit.

If only he had been correct, things in Konoha may not have spiraled so quickly out of control.

No one had expected Sarutobi to maintain power for as long as he had, but in the end the reason was obvious. He was waiting for an heir. Jiraiya had refused him and I was far too independent. He would never have chosen a successor who was not willing to follow his every whim. Eventually, he found such a successor in Jiraiya's brat student, leaving myself and Danzou only to continue to kowtow to his foolish ideas, as we were forced to even now.

"Do you have any idea what he's plotting this time?" I managed to hide the disgust in my tone, but only because we were so near his office. I was never the type to take foolish risks; bold risks, perhaps, but never foolish ones.

"Not a clue." Danzou had learned the same as I to maintain a neutral tone, his single eye shifting past my shoulder to Sarutobi's door. "I suppose we shouldn't keep him waiting."

As it turned out, Sarutobi was the one to keep us waiting outside his door for a matter of minutes before seeing fit to answer our knock. We both knew the reason behind it. The old fool enjoyed boosting his own ego with such ridiculous displays of power.

When he finally allowed us inside, Sarutobi gestured to a pair of chairs that sat opposite his desk, extending us all the considerations of any other important guest. Simply being asked to sit raised my guard instantly. He was seeking to sway us in some great point, I was sure. However I did not – could not – expect the magnitude of the proposition he was about to lay before us.

Danzou and I exchanged a brief glance before returning our focus to Sarutobi, who had taken his own seat behind his all too massive desk, a desk probably larger than even Yondaime's. "I'm glad you two could come on such short notice. I simply wanted to waste no time in bringing my proposal to your attention."

Translation? He wanted to brag.

Of course, it was suicide not to indulge him, so Danzou and I both smiled, seemingly proud to be the first to hear of his next ingenious plan. Such acting kept us in his good graces and it was always better to be in the know regarding his ridiculous schemes. Sarutobi leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, a broad smile on his aging face. "We have received reports from our sources in Sunagakure. The Kazekage has managed to create himself another jinchuuriki."

Why this brought forth a smile from the old fool was a mystery. There had been various rumors out of the Wind Country for years regarding their desire to find some way to better harness the power of Shukaku, including unconfirmed tales of the bijuu's sealing within other Suna shinobi. However, if Sarutobi had managed to confirm that the bijuu was indeed successfully sealed, it would be no cause for joy. Any advantage to an enemy village was not an advantage to Konoha. It was just that logical.

Or at least, it seemed logical until he spoke again. "Sunagakure has developed a method of sealing the bijuu that does not require the death of the shinobi performing the sealing. I wish to develop a method of our own to seal bijuu efficiently. Suna cannot be the only village allowed to harness such a power."

I wasn't sure at first I had heard him correctly. Harness the power of a bijuu? It took a moment to gather my thoughts and prevent myself from bursting into laughter. The old man had finally lost his mind! "You can't be serious. To do such a thing is next to impossible and even if I were to create a jutsu with the power to seal a bijuu, there is no way to test its effectiveness until put to work. There is no way to know if the shinobi will live!"

I cut myself off before going further. I had learned over the years to judge my former sensei and those first hints of tension in his jaw were an obvious sign of his displeasure. He was not used to being refused, though I felt strongly that he should know better than to think I was as easily swayed as the rest of his pawns. He had trained me too well to think for myself back when he assumed I would agree with him.

Danzou, however, was either more foolhardy than I, or simply more a fool. His own face was a mask of calm, though there were hints of strain in his back and hands. His tone was measured, but tone did nothing to mask the sincere unhappiness in his words. "To capture and seal a bijuu? Sarutobi, I think you have finally lost your mind."

For a moment I felt as if I were caught between the clash of two titans as both men stared, unblinking at one another communicating a distaste that went far beyond reasonable levels. It was the first time I had seen Danzou so openly show disrespect and judging by Sarutobi's expression, it was his first time as well. Still, I was surprised at the civility he showed his one time opponent, breaking that stalemate with a brief smile. "Perhaps I have, but crazy or not, Konoha cannot be left unprepared. In ten years that Suna boy will be a menace and we will need a menace of our own to combat him."

As much as I hated to admit such a thing, Sarutobi had not become Hokage on purely a whim. The man was a genius, as much as I in many ways. However, genius could be a dangerous thing in the hands of the unscrupulous.

I lifted a hand, silencing Danzou before he could respond. I could only imagine my own expression; some mix of dark amusement and muted shock. "I find your wishes impossible, but I will do my best work, as always. If there is a way, I will do all in my power to find it."

My response pleased him and whatever distaste he had been harboring for myself and Danzou was once again hidden away behind his pleasant façade. "I trust you will. After all, if a man cannot trust his own student, who can he trust?"

xxxx

With a final gulp, Kusanagi retreated within my body once more, leaving behind only the slight metallic taste that always lingered from my rather unique method of sheathing the weapon. Besides that, it was always accompanied by the more metallic taste of blood; in this case, the blood of the quiet resilient ANBU captain that now lay in a bloody mess at my feet. It had taken numerous blows from my sword as well as Sasori's most effective numbing poison to bring him down. Truly, Sarutobi had surrounded himself with a strong force. It was a wonder Itachi had made it this far in his condition.

It was in that instant that I recalled Itachi and my eyes darted quickly towards the riverbank where I had last seen the youth, tottering on the edge of near exhaustion and faced with a trio of ANBU, only two of which Sasori and I had dispatched.

It seemed Sasori had come to the same realization and was already poised for the attack. "Where is the third?"

"There." I released a sigh of relief, lifting an arm to indicate the third enemy where he lay, unmoving, at Uchiha Itachi's feet. The boy stood above him, eyes closed, and for a moment it seemed almost as if he had drifted to sleep on his feet. However, when he sensed our gaze upon him, he lifted his head, a pair of red eyes settling on us with an expression so blank I wondered momentarily if there was no spirit left within him at all.

However, it took only a moment for his eyes to return to their normal shade, betraying a weariness exponentially more severe than it had been when we first found him. "He's asleep. Thank you both, whoever you are, but you've done your part. I intend to be gone when he wakes up… and I intend to make sure he wakes up, as well."

"And where do you intend to go, Itachi-kun?" I closed the distance between us at a slow, measured pace, not wanting to send the boy scampering off like a frightened deer, though I doubted very much he would get far. "Where will you hide yourself? There are more ANBU searching for you. We noted three parties on our way to intercept you." I paused, having drawn almost near enough to touch the boy, reaching up to remove my kasa so I could meet his gaze. "How long will you keep running without food or rest?"

He regarded me with a narrowed gaze in the manner of a small rodent observing a snake, knowing very well that I was correct. He did not have the stamina to take another day of running. With a soft sigh, Itachi broke our shared gaze, a smirk barely forming on chapped, weary lips. "I see. Word travels quickly, even to the legendary Orochimaru-sama."

I did not bother to hide my surprise. Itachi could not have been more than five years old when I was forced to flee Konoha; hardly old enough to know me from anything other than Sarutobi's exaggerated reports. "I'm flattered that you would know me. I thought all boys your age were raised to fear Orochimaru the traitor."

He must have noted the amusement in my voice, for it brought forth a smile to his face, which he made quick efforts to hide. "There's no need for one traitor to fear another, I suppose." Though his guard did not relax entirely, it was clear by the sudden rush of exhaustion that he had at least come to realize I had no immediate intention of causing him harm. However, he hadn't realized the extent which his adrenaline had been effecting his strength and it was only moments until the boy swayed like a toddler, momentarily reclaimed his balance, but ultimately toppled to the ground, a victim of his own strain.

As I stepped forward to retrieve him I found Sasori at my side once more. The puppet master was regarding Itachi with a sharp, appraising gaze, as if his unconscious state somehow diminished his power. "I wonder how much the Hokage was able to milk from this one before he ran off."

I cast a brief glare at him before taking to one knee at Itachi's side, rolling his collapsed form onto his back. "These clan types are too arrogant to allow Sarutobi much access to their secrets." I fell silent for a moment before hefting the boy over my shoulder, momentarily surprised by how easily I was able to lift him; a sharp reminder that Itachi was still only a child. "Besides, he had no reason to want to help the old man, anyway."

xxxx

Years before my final altercation with Sarutobi, he had allotted me a small space on the lowest level of the administrative building which I had turned into a minor laboratory with which to study new and experimental jutsu. It was the one chore I could do for the old man that never felt like a chore. I enjoyed nothing more than discovering new ways of doing old things more efficiently and doing such never seemed like work. It was only that final time – that final assignment – that felt like the world's largest impossibility.

There existed many jutsu for sealing and I was admittedly a master in the field. I had developed a number of seals over the years, both major and minor, and so it was only logical that Sarutobi had turned to me to create this, the most important sealing jutsu ever created for the Leaf; a jutsu that would successfully seal a bijuu within a human host without killing the ninja performing the jutsu. However, I had no intention of doing such a thing.

As I stood over my main lab table there came a soft knock on the door; far too soft to belong to Sarutobi. Still, I hesitated a moment before straightening my bent posture. "It's open."

The door creaked softly on its hinges, admitting the slow moving, nervous form of Danzou. He took his time closing the door, hesitating in the most obvious manner possible, or perhaps displaying an ounce of paranoia. Paranoia was never a miscalculation when Sarutobi was in the same building. "So you intend to do this for him? To create this blasphemous jutsu?"

It was so simple for him to say such a thing. Still, it disrupted what remained of my focus, leaving me no closer to completing a jutsu than I had been hours ago when I had first begun to work with the handful of rats that still scampered about on the table before me. Some might have argued my methods were cruel, but I had no concern for rats. They were merely a stepping stone to a more successful jutsu; one that could not be tested on human beings. "Do you truly believe I have the option to refuse?"

Slow, measured strides carried the older man towards my table, a hand dropping to catch one of the rats, a tiny white monster with fierce red eyes. He sneered at the creature as it squirmed in fear, attempting to crane its head this way and that in order to gnaw its way free. Danzou, however, paid the struggles no mind, peering at the rat as if it were laying complacently in his open palm. "You have the option to do whatever you wish." He lifted the rat higher, holding it level a few feet away from his good eye before placing it back on the table with exaggerated disgust. "But if you think this jutsu will finally be the thing to earn you his favor, I hope you will realize how mistaken you are."

My gaze lingered on the rat as it shook itself violently, as if to push away the feel of Danzou's hands. I could not say I blamed the poor thing. I would not want to be caught in that man's grasp, either. Still, I forced myself to lift my gaze to meet his, forcing as much resolve as possible into my eyes. I could not have him thinking I still held some sort of soft spot for my former sensei, the man who had betrayed me and my ambitions by refusing to name me his successor. "I have no desire to win his favor any longer."

I hadn't expected Danzou to find my words so amusing, but it seemed the older man could not contain his laughter. However, it only took a sharp glare from me to silence him, at least long enough for him to manage a few words between chuckles. "You're just as transparent as when you were a boy, trailing after him as if he were the very epitome of a ninja."

"That's enough, Danzou." Thought I hardly felt it, I managed to put a good deal of venom in my voice, the same tone I used with my students when they treated their training as if it were a joke. It seemed to work just as well on the elder ninja, a fact that I found greatly amusing. "I'm not that boy any longer. That boy would never agree to develop a jutsu that would imprison a bijuu." I paused, placing a hand over one of the calmer rats and stroking its coarse hair a bit too roughly. The creature only tolerated me for a moment before turning sharply to sink its tiny jaws around my thumb.

It was the pain that jolted me back to the room, back to Danzou where he stood, watching me with the expression of a lost child. Shaking the rat's teeth free of my hand, but ignoring the slow trickle of blood left in its place, I raised my eyes, locking gazes with my only ally. "That boy would never develop a jutsu meant to kill his sensei."


	3. Chapter 3

Well here I am, back for another update after almost a year. I'm happy to be picking up this fic again. I've been so busy I've only posted a few one shots recently, but I really hope to write more steadily on this fic in the future.

So here we have chapter three. Please read and review. I hope it was worth the wait.

-sor

* * *

**Somewhere in the Fire Country - Uchiha Itachi**

I awoke to the sound of birds. It was a sensation so familiar that my besieged mind was inclined to believe I was still in my own bed beneath my father's roof, listening to the morning birds in the cherry tree outside my window. As I lay there, I half expected to hear my mother's voice just down the hallway as she rapped lightly on Sasuke's door, waking him for school. But no; there was only the soft twitter of the birds.

I opened my eyes. The room was dim, lighted only by a single window high on the far wall through which sunlight streamed at an odd angle, falling across the foot of my bed to illuminate the worn blanket that had, at some far off time, been blue. The light played over it, making it seem at one moment grey and the next periwinkle, a fact that, due to my disorientation, mesmerized me for far too long. It took my mind more than a few moments to realize that I did not recognize this blanket, or this room. The view from the window suggested I was underground, for I could only see the grass and the base of a large oak. All else was obscured by the ceiling.

The old blanket was pushed away and I slowly sat up, lifting a hand to rub firmly at my temples. My head ached and I knew right away it was from more than the dim lighting in this strange room. It was a dull pain, just behind my eyes, brought on by the strain of using Mangekyou for far too long. I had felt this pain before, but never had it lasted through sleep and into the next morning.

I moved slowly, knowing that any sudden movement would only serve to heighten the pain, turning to swing my legs over the edge of the bed. It was then that I took a moment to further study my surroundings. The room was simple, dark stone walls lacking in any hint of color. Aside from a single rug in blues and greys, there was little to alter the cold image the place put off. It was lightly furnished, nothing more than the bed, a small chest of drawers, and a lightly cushioned arm chair, on which lay a pile of clothing, messily folded.

It was then that I came to the realization that I was no longer dressed in my own clothing, but a simple night shirt that was made for a man of much greater height. The sleeves hung too long as well, forcing me to take a moment to roll them up. Obviously it belonged to the man who had brought me here. The legendary traitor, Orochimaru.

Perhaps I should have been more wary of my current company, but it had not yet occurred to me to mistrust Orochimaru. After all, it was hardly as if he had quarrel with me; in fact, he had come to my aid. And what better place to hide away from the pursuing ANBU than with a man who had evaded them for nearly seven years? I considered my run in with Orochimaru to be a much needed stroke of luck. Still, I was more than curious of his intentions and intended to be as cautious as possible without offending the men who had saved my life.

After a moment's rest, I pushed myself to my feet, grasping the headboard with a white-knuckled strength. My firm grip turned out to be well worth the effort, for the moment I was on my feet, my vision swam and the room grew alternately dark and light. The sensation was nearly sickening in my current state of weakness and it caused my stomach to churn as if it were on the verge of an explosion. And to make matters worse, I could have sworn I heard my father voice echoing in my ear as if he intended to still hound me from beyond the grave with lectures concerning our family's blood and the hidden, forgotten, and all together dangerous strengths locked away.

Perhaps he was justified.

xxxx

It was common for my father to disturb me every evening when he returned from the police station; so common that by and by I began to avoid the house all together until supper. Eventually, I began to miss supper as well, citing missions and duties as excuses that I knew would never hold up under even the lightest scrutiny. I knew better than to think my father was not resourceful. Even ANBU mission records were not entirely secure from my father's prying eyes.

We continued in such a manner for some time, passing one another in silence, staring across the supper table while Sasuke chattered on about the academy. I hardly heard him. My mind was constantly burdened by worry. The looks father cast my way were impossible to bear and I found it much simpler to avoid his gaze all together. I ate little, spoke less, and always excused myself early. It was no wonder that the house began to feel as suffocating as an oven.

Eventually, even Sasuke's pleasant supper conversation faded away, leaving us to eat only in silence, glaring daggers at one another when we thought Sasuke was not looking. But children have a knack for seeing that which you try to hide from them and Sasuke was an Uchiha; a boy with eyes as observant as any of us. He watched me now more intently than ever, dark eyes wide and questioning. Some days he would sit for hours, gathering the courage to approach me, asking for kunai training or taijutsu practice, but behind those eyes, I could see his real intentions.

It was nearly midnight when I heard the soft patter of bare feet on the wooden floors of the hallway. The footsteps paused nearly as often as they moved, pausing the longest outside my door. I could see where the figure's feet disrupted the beam of moonlight that penetrated the crack beneath the door, however, I did not move. I would not welcome a boy who was too cowardly even to knock at his own brother's door.

Weak and cowardly, just like the rest of the clan.

Finally, though it seemed he spent an eternity hovering there outside my door, my thoughts were disrupted by the soft creaking of hinges as the door opened just far enough to admit Sasuke's slender form. He slipped inside as a wraith might, pushing the wooden door closed as silently as the hinges would allow. And still he stood silently, staring at me from the shadows as if I would rise from my blankets and eat him alive. Finally, though, he inched forward, releasing a soft noise when he realized I was awake. "Nii-san..."

With an exaggerated sigh I sat up, never taking my eyes from the boy beside the door, his words met with only heavy silence. It was not in me to nurse the words from his lips. If my pathetic little brother had a reason for such a late visit, he could speak on his own. If not, his words were not worth my time to begin with.

We remained in such silence for some time, Sasuke shuffling his feet and wringing his hands alternately and still refusing to meet my gaze. But finally, when I began to feel my patience with him was at an end, he seemed to gather his courage and step further into the room, fixing me with an angry glare. "What's going on, nii-san?"

"Is something going on, Sasuke?"

My indifference did not sit well with him and his small face contorted in momentary rage; a rage that helped him forget his fear and plunge forward with a stronger determination. "You know exactly what I mean, nii-san. Father won't even talk to you and today he told me not to follow after you. Why? What does that mean?" He drove forward boldly, grabbing hold of my arm, small fingers digging into my flesh. "Nii-san?"

My eyes closed, but even then I could feel his gaze on me as painfully as the force of his fingers. I should have been pleased that he would come to me rather than pledging blind obedience to our father, but it only made me further ill to think he'd been so afraid to speak of it. It was not a sin to question; even to question our father. "You will find, Sasuke, that all the great clans fear that which they cannot control."

When I opened my eyes, I found my little brother staring boldly at me, eyes round and uncertain. With a sigh, I reached forward, poking his forehead gently, and just as he did every time, Sasuke scowled and rubbed at the spot. "Nii-san..."

"Father was right, Sasuke." My hand came to rest atop his head, ruffling his unkept hair, already tousled from sleep. "You shouldn't follow after me." He reached up to shove my hand away and I allowed it, letting it fall back into my lap as if it were my own choice. "Men should choose their own path, not follow that which has already been tread by another."

If Sasuke understood, he said nothing to confirm it, only rubbing at his forehead once more and grimacing at having allowed me to make such an obvious attack. "But, nii-san, I want to be ANBU, too. I want to show everyone that I can be just as strong as you." He had been beaming at me for a moment, but the joy in his expression quickly faded. "But I haven't even activated my Sharingan yet. When you were my age, you were already a real ninja."

Releasing a soft sigh, I gave the side of his head a quick, but gentle shove. "You haven't heard a thing I said, Sasuke." If he didn't learn at least to listen, how could I ever expect him to be bright enough to realize what really went on behind our father's closed doors? "You're not supposed to be just like me. It doesn't matter if you haven't activated your Sharingan. What matters is that you find your own path based on your own talents and goals. Don't allow yourself to become blinded by ambition." I simply couldn't allow my own little brother to become the latest casualty of our clan's propaganda.

"But father said that our clan was defined by strength and that if I were to lead the clan one day, I would have to learn to improve more quickly." Not realizing exactly what he had let slip, Sasuke continued to bombard me with his usual eager pleas. "That's why I need you to have shuriken practice with me again. I'll only be able to become strong if you help me!"

The jabbering went on, but I no longer heard it. Was this father's intention now - to grant his title and inheritance to Sasuke? There had been nothing spoken of this, at least not within my earshot, and so I could only assume that father had maintained his silence for a reason. Most likely cowardice. No doubt he was afraid of how I would react should I learn I was to be disowned. How very typical.

"Ne, Sasuke," I interrupted his chatter with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid I won't have time anymore for shuriken practice." His expression turned first shocked, then forlorn, but I continued before he could take sincere offense. "You've already learned quite a bit from me. You won't need me anymore."

No, he no longer needed me for shuriken practice, nor would he need me for anything else once father had his way. There was no doubt now in my mind that he had turned against me, now in deed as well as thought. Whatever lasting shreds of loyalty I had held for my father were shattered. If he were willing to abandon his heir, I saw no further reason to hope for resolution between us.

Sasuke had remained silent at my side, staring mournfully at his bare feet. It was purely by instinct that I ruffled his hair again, the big brother in me unable to ignore his distress, even in the face of much larger problems. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, Sasuke. I promise."

He said nothing, but simply started towards the door, ignoring me in the manner he always did when he was especially upset. But I reassured myself he would forget his anger by morning.

As he reached the door and began to slide it open I spoke again. The words were unplanned, and likely unwise, but they came of their own volition. "Be vigilant, Sasuke. But remember, the things you see right before your eyes are not always the things you should trust. You must learn to see beyond the surface or you will grow to be nothing more than a pawn of the powerful."

xxxx

I stirred from my thoughts, not knowing if hours had passed or only minutes. The dark, coolness of the deserted hallway returned to me along with the dull, but resilient pain just behind my eyes and once again, I was alone. I lifted a hand, fingertips pressing against the rough stone hard enough to leave tiny pinprick indentations from the sharp, uneven surface. That one instant of pain was enough to fully restore my senses to the point in which I detected the sound of voices.

They seemed distant at first, but I realized they were only muffled by the stone walls and could not really be so far off as they seemed. Still, they were indistinct. Words escaped me and so I inched forward, moving now with a deliberate silence until I reached a doorway that, unlike the rest, stood halfway open. And there I listened.

"The time to strike is now. The leader moves too cautiously." The voice was one I recognized with ease. It was the man who had come to my aid beside the river. Orochimaru.

The second voice, however, was unfamiliar. I had expected the response to follow in the deep, rasping voice of the strange, scorpionesque man who had accompanied the Legendary Traitor, but instead this new voice was soft. It carried a tone of authority, yet sounded as if it came from a man no older than myself. "The leader has his reasons. He wishes to bolster our ranks to prepare for the battles to come. We are too few to be so reckless."

"Does he gather us, then, to see our talents go unused? The time is now! The boy is still young and the village is in an uproar! Who would notice a single boy's disappearance?" Orochimaru's words melted into a soft chuckle. "Who would miss him?"

"And where would you propose we keep the boy?" Still calm, the unknown voice held only the first hints of annoyance. "I do not intend to babysit him and I'm certain the leader feels the same. Besides, he means to send someone else for the Kyuubi."

"Who better to send for the Kyuubi than me?"

Where I had expected a response, there came only a heavy silence. It was as if all life in that room had ceased to exist. That is, until the door slowly opened and my childish snooping was put to an end. I was not greeted with anger, as I had expected, but only with a faint grin from the Legendary Traitor. Still, I had enough sense to be ashamed. "Forgive me, Orochimaru-san."

"No need for all that." He stepped aside, gesturing that I might join him within.

The room was modest, containing a small table and a trio of chairs, a small stove, and a handful of small cabinets. On the table sat two cups of tea, steam rising steadily from within. One cup sat before an empty chair, the other before a man who sat with a posture that managed to be both stiff and relaxed. Though I could not put a name to it, my eyes detected something that seemed almost unnatural about him.

The strange man offered a more subdued smile and made a gesture towards the third unoccupied chair. "The boy looks a bit ill. You should offer him some tea, Orochimaru."

Realizing I had been standing far too long in the doorway I stepped inside, not wanting to be rude. However, I could not help but be wary. Without a doubt, these were dangerous men and they had yet to give any indication that I was any safer in their presence than I had been faced with ANBU.

Without a word, I slid into the offered chair, refusing to succumb to my exhaustion and slouch against the wooden back. In a pit of vipers, a man learns quickly not to lower his guard. So it was when a steaming cup of tea was placed before me, I did not drink. I merely placed my hands carefully around the chipped ceramic, soaking up the warmth and staring for a moment at the distorted reflection cast in the dark liquid. The face that peered back seemed haggard and unfamiliar.

Could a day really do so much to age a face?

Feeling a growing sense of discomfort from my own reflection, I raised my gaze only to find the pair of men watching me. Orochimaru sat in silence, though the gleam in his eye spoke volumes. His gaze seemed to pierce me and I lacked the strength to defend. But it was his companion that worried me more. The man sat in perfect stillness and it even seemed to my eyes that his chest did not rise and fall with his breaths. Had I not heard him speak moments before, I may have wondered if there were any life in him at all.

Then, as if he had heard every thought, the man shifted, offering a brief bow. "Uchiha Itachi, forgive my rudeness." Even as he spoke, the man's expression remained perfectly blank. "Of course, you no doubt know Orochimaru, formerly of Konohagakure."

The Legendary Traitor bowed his head briefly, though those eyes never left me. My gaze lingered only for a moment upon him before looking away, once more placing my focus on the other. "And you are?"

"Akasuna no Sasori." Again he nodded his head in greeting, a faint smirk forming on his otherwise lifeless face, amused, no doubt, by my obvious surprise.

It was a name not unknown to some members of the Konoha ANBU. It was beneficial to have knowledge of those most dangerous criminals, even should they come from enemy villages. Men with no loyalties were the most dangerous, after all. "You are Akasuna no Sasori? The man responsible for the death of the Third Kazekage... or so I have heard. An S-Ranked criminal who disappeared nearly twelve years ago. You are that man?"

If my knowledge of his crimes came as any surprise, his face showed no sign. Sasori merely nodded again in acknowledgement of my words. "I see my name has reached the Leaf as well."

Feeling somewhat bolder, I pushed forward, unwilling to sit idle before a man of such questionable reputation. "Then you would understand why I would suddenly doubt your hospitality. Why would an S-Rank criminal be so eager to accommodate?"

Orochimaru leaned forward over the table, the gleam in his eye turning almost dangerous. "Are you not an S-Rank criminal yourself, Itachi-kun?"

The words struck me like lightning and I failed even to notice his soft laughter. How foolish of me to forget. In the light of a new day, had it really been so easy to imagine myself still a part of my village, an ANBU captain, the heir to the Uchiha clan? Had it been so easy to forget all I had done?

Sasori's gaze remained empty as he held up a hand, silencing any further taunting from his partner. "You have questions, Uchiha. I understand. However, I hope you can understand our position. Akatsuki cannot risk granting knowledge to a boy that is not a part of the organization."

Where I had been familiar with the name Akasuna no Sasori, the name Akatsuki was quite the opposite. Even I had to admit that my curiosity was piqued. "Akatsuki?"

Having heeded Sasori's wishes, Orochimaru's expression had turned more serious save for the faint curl of his lip, a smirk that would never quite vanish. "Akatsuki. An organization of powerful ninja; men and women who had fled their villages for one reason or another."

"An organization of criminals, then?" Even I could not help but allow a faint smirk. That I would be taken in by such men could not be mere coincidence. "And what reason would criminals have for forming such an organization?"

For the first time, Sasori's face took on a more human expression, a very faint, but almost understanding smile. "Akatsuki has many goals and each of us, goals of our own, as well. But when all is said and done, there is only one true purpose in Akatsuki.

"To unite all ninja under a single banner. To destroy the corrupt, powerful Hidden Villages and bring an end to the ninja wars that have plagued our history since the dawn of time. To bring about a single ninja order that serves only the cause of peace in this world."


End file.
